


Stick to the Status Quo

by freeshipping



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Destiel - Freeform, Flirting, Fluff, High School, High School AU, Jock!Cas, Kissing, M/M, nerd!dean, reverse stereotypes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:50:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1258585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freeshipping/pseuds/freeshipping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean isn't sure why someone like Castiel would be following him around and flirting with him, but he's 90% sure it won't end well. (except, of course, it does)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stick to the Status Quo

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](http://desuchieru.tumblr.com/post/74068406425/you-may-have-heard-that-im-a-great) post. 
> 
> This is very cheesy and shmoopy and I'm ashamed. Sorry guys...

Dean Winchester didn’t have many friends. It might have been his sarcasm, the way he used humor as a defense. It might have been his intellect, the fact that he was one of the smartest people in the school and everyone knew it. It might even have been the way he dressed, in button-ups and thick-framed glasses. But it all honestly, it was probably his dedication, the way he was always working and studying and striving so hard to get by. He was a little too awkward and a little too quiet and most people just brushed him by.

He was okay with that, he really was. He was just trying to survive his senior year of high school. He didn’t need friends, or a boyfriend for that matter. (A boyfriend was one thing in particular that Dean knew wouldn’t happen, since no one besides his family knew he was gay.) 

So it was an understatement to say he was surprised when Castiel Milton cornered him after class one day, waving to his group of cronies to go on without him. “Hey, Winchester, mind if I ask you something?” 

Dean heaved a sigh and turned to look at the boy next to him. Castiel was a couple inches shorter than Dean, with dark brown hair and blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. He was widely known as the heartthrob of the school, and Dean could understand why. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

Castiel leaned in closer. “I need a favor. There’s this party on Friday night that I’m being forced to but most of the people there are dreadfully boring. Would you consider going with me to keep me company?”

Dean was startled. Whatever he had been expecting Castiel to ask, it wasn’t that. “Is this one of those ‘let’s get the smart kid wasted’ things?”

Castiel blinked. “Uh, no. I don’t think so.”

“You don’t even know me.”

Castiel snickered. “Yeah, that’s the whole point of asking you to go with me, so that I get to know you better.”

Dean wasn’t an idiot. He knew that dumb jocks like Castiel were always preying on quieter guys like him. They always had a thing for the weird kid, and this was no exception. Castiel was toying with him, and Dean wasn’t about to fall into that trap. 

“No thank you,” he told Castiel quietly, “I don’t do parties.” He turned to walk away, but Castiel grabbed him arm. 

“Then… maybe some other time?” he pleaded, and Dean thought he saw a flash of sincerity in those azure eyes. “We can grab lunch or a movie or something?” 

Dean pulled his arm out of Castiel’s strong grip. “Maybe.” He walked away quickly, before Castiel could say another word. 

~ * ~

The next day Castiel abandoned his usual group of friends to sit next to Dean, who groaned inwardly as soon as the other boy took a seat. Castiel was wearing his soccer jersey today, a sure sign that they had a game that night. Weren’t jocks supposed to have  _ extra _ team spirit on game days? Why in god’s name would Castiel abandon his team on a day like this?

“Hello, Dean,” he said quietly, leaning over. His voice was deeper than any 17-year-old’s voice should be, and it wasn’t making it any easier for Dean to concentrate. “We have a soccer game tonight and it would mean a lot to me if you came.”

“Why?” Dean hissed, turning to Castiel, “Why would it mean anything to you?” 

“Because I like you,” Castiel replied matter-of-factly. “You’re smart and funny and you seem very nice, although I can’t really say much since you won’t talk to me--” 

“Milton! Winchester!” Mr. Singer barked from the front of the room, “Mind paying attention?” 

Both boys grumbled an apology and Mr. Singer went back to his lesson. They didn’t talk again during class, although Castiel passed Dean a note about ten minutes later that read, “And you’re cute,” with lots of little hearts drawn around it. 

Dean was having a hard time convincing himself that this was anything but superficial. 

Gym class that day was hell, as always. It wasn’t that Dean hated the exercise, it was just that gym class was the perfect place for kids to group up. They formed cliques and teams and always excluded boys like him. Even worse was the ridicule if he messed something up -- teenagers were like sharks, and they were just waiting for him to slip up so they could strike. 

The first half of class was much the same as usual. They were playing tennis, and Dean had been forced to team up with the weird, smelly girl who spent the whole time staring at her shoes and squealing if the ball went near her. He lost the first two rounds miserably before taking a brutal ball to the stomach and having to sit out for the rest of class, much to the delight of the boy who had hit it. 

He made his way to the water fountains around the side of the school, out of sight of the tennis courts. He immediately relaxed, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes, focusing on just breathing. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

He started, his eyes flying open to land on Castiel. “I followed you to make sure you were okay,” Castiel told him, his brows drawn down in an expression of genuine concern. He was leaning so close to Dean that he could feel Castiel’s breath ghosting across his face. He smelled like spearmint. 

“I - I’m fine. Thank you.” Dean swallowed nervously. Was Castiel about to make fun of him for being such a wimp? Was he going to tell Dean off, or make him go back out and keep playing? A number of unfortunate situations ran through Dean’s mind. He didn’t see how this could end well. 

A soft smile crossed Castiel’s lips. “I am glad. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Wasn’t…” Dean licked his lips anxiously. “Wasn’t that you friend who hit me? Uriel?” 

Castiel bit his lip, his eyes never leaving Dean’s. “He… is a teammate. I would not call him a friend. To be perfectly honest, I do not get along well with many of my teammates. It is why I find you so intriguing.” 

“Oh?” Dean was trying so hard not to believe Castiel, but it was hard not to. He seemed so sincere, with his blue eyes and soft expression. 

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel whispered, “I wasn’t lying when I said I liked you.” He leaned in closer, and Dean could feel Castiel’s breath on his lips.

“You might have to convince me a little bit more.” Dean slipped out from Castiel’s grip, backing away from his slowly. “You seem like a nice guy, Cas, but I’ve a little too much bad luck with jocks and bullies to be that trusting.” He walked away before Castiel could say anything else.

~ * ~

Dean returned home to find a text from an unknown number on his phone. “Hello Dean,” it read, “This is Castiel. Sam gave me your number. Why did u call me Cas earlier?”

Dean groaned. He would have to deal with Sam later. His little brother couldn’t just go around handing out his phone number to people, even cute athletes. “Idk,” Dean texted back, “I just like giving ppl nicknames. Problem??”

Castiel’s response was immediate. “No. I like it. I wld like any nickname u gave me. ;) ”

Jesus Christ, was Cas flirting with him? It wasn’t even discrete this time. “rlly cas? srsly, what do u want?”

“Come over. We can talk here.”

“no way. it cld b a trick.”

“Why would I trick you, Dean? I rlly just want to see u. I will explain everything.” He sent another text after that with his address, followed by another winky face.

Dean groaned and planted his forehead on the table. There was no good reason for him to deny Cas this time. Besides, he was getting curious about this boy. He didn’t seem to fall into the usual jock stereotypes. (Not to mention that he was gorgeous beyond belief.) 

“fine,” he replied, “i’ll b over soon.” 

~ * ~

It became apparent to Dean as soon as he pulled in the driveway that Castiel’s parents were at home. It put him more at ease. If he was wrong about Cas, and he had been trying to pull a trick, he certainly wouldn’t try anything with his parents around. 

He knocked tentatively on the door and was immediately confronted by a friendly woman with red hair and brown eyes. “Hi,” she said, smiling casually, “I’m Anna.” 

“Dean.” He eyed her suspiciously. She looked nothing like Castiel.

Anna laughed at his expression. “I’m his adopted mother,” she explained, “There’s no blood relation, unfortunately.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t know Cas was adopted. Then again, it seemed like there were a lot of things he didn’t know about Castiel Milton. 

Cas came bounding down the stairs as soon as the door swung shut, still wearing his soccer jersey and jeans. He looked adorably frumpled, with his hair even messier than usual. A wide grin spread across his face as his eyes fell on Dean. “You came!” 

Dean smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I did.”

Cas grabbed his coat and shoes and tossed them to the side before Dean could do a thing, grabbing Dean’s hand and tugging him towards the staircase. “We have so much to talk about,” Cas was saying excitedly, “I’m so happy you came over, Dean, we’re going to have so much fun.”

Dean threw a panicked look at Anna, who just shrugged at him with a bemused smile. He allowed himself to be dragged up the stairs to Castiel’s room, which was much neater than Dean would have imagined, everything decked out in shades of blue and white. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Dean asked warily as soon as Cas had closed the door. 

Cas smiled at him excitedly. “You’re in my house, Dean. You’re in my room.” He pulled out a chair and gestured for Dean to sit, taking a seat on the bed across from him. “I said I would explain, so I’m going to.”

Dean crossed his arms expectantly. “Please do.”

“Um, okay.” Cas shifted nervously. “I guess I saw you sitting alone a lot and I started wondering about you, so I asked around and it turned out that you didn’t really have many friends…”

“So this is a pity thing?”

Castiel’s eyes grew wide. “No no! Most people seemed to think you were really great, they were just intimidated by you.”

“Intimidated?” That was a new one.

“Yeah, because you’re… well, you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

A soft blush was spreading across Castiel’s cheeks, uncharacteristic for someone who usually seemed so stoic and  _ male. _ “ Well, you’re very smart and witty and obviously you’re very attractive…”

“I am?” That was another new one.

Castiel laughed and got up, crossing to where Dean with sitting and bending down to look him in the eyes. “Well, yeah. With those pretty green eyes and adorable freckles and that perfect, sandy hair.” Cas reached out a hand to run his fingers through said hair, sending shivers down Dean’s spine. 

Dean was quiet, studying Castiel’s face. He realized with a start that he believed every word Cas said, whether he wanted to or not. This wasn’t some stupid prank; it was real, and Cas really liked him. “Cas…” he whispered.

Cas bit his lip. “Dean, can I kiss you?” he asked suddenly. 

Dean was too stunned to do anything but nod, and then there were soft, warm lips on his. Lips that tasted like spearmint and chocolate and fit together with his like they were meant for each other. Castiel parted his lips slightly and the kiss deepened, his hand tugging slightly on Dean’s hair to tilt his head back. 

Cas finally drew back, panting, and looked Dean in the eyes. “Do you believe me now, Dean Winchester?”

Dean grinned. “You know I do, Cas.” He pulled Cas back down for another kiss, this one wetter and messier and altogether more passionate. Dean parted his lips slightly and allowed Cas to slip his tongue in, enjoying the weight of it in his mouth as their tongues tangled together. 

Cas climbed into Dean’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck, and Dean slid his arms around the other boy’s waist, lifting up his jersey slightly to run his thumbs over Cas’s sharp hipbones. They kept kissing the whole time, needing each other’s mouths like they needed air. Dean’s brain almost stopped functioning when Cas’s lips traveled to his jawline, kissing down to Dean’s neck and sucking a bruise into his skin. 

“Are you enjoying this, Dean?” Cas breathed into his ear, “Was I correct when I said we should get to know each other better?” 

“You were,” Dean gasped, “I never thought I would admit this, but you were very right.” 

Cas laughed and kissed the soft spot behind Dean’s ear, sending tingles through Dean’s whole body. He couldn’t believe how much he was enjoying this. 

Suddenly Cas pulled back. “Shit!” 

“What? What happened?” Had Dean done something wrong? He had thought things were going great. 

“The game!” Cas exclaimed, climbing off of Dean’s lap. Dean quickly crossed his legs in an attempt to hide his awkward half-boner. “It’s in twenty minutes, I have to go!” He was hastily gathering things and throwing them into a bag -- his shoes, water bottle, towel, shin guards.

On the way out the door, Cas looked back at Dean, who was hanging over the back of the chair with a bewildered expression on his face. Cas laughed and doubled back to kiss Dean lightly, setting his crooked glasses back in place. “Will you be there?” he questioned softly.

Dean grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it.” 

~ * ~

Dean had never been very invested in sports. He found the games too repetitive and hard to follow, much preferring a good book or movie, something with a story. However, he found himself more emotionally invested in this soccer game than any book he had read. He was right in the front row, as promised, his eyes following Castiel’s every movement as he flew across the field. When the whistle went off for halftime, they were in the lead by only one point.

Dean watched Cas cross to the bench and put his head in his hands. Dean had thought Cas was playing great, and couldn’t understand why he seemed so disappointed. They were winning, weren’t they? Maybe it wasn’t enough.

He licked his lips and stood up, slowly making his way through the crowd and around the field. He knew he would probably get stopped, but he had to try. “Hey, kid!” the coach snapped, “You can’t be over here!” 

Dean swallowed nervously and glanced at Cas, who locked eyes with him from the bench. “It’s okay, coach,” he said quietly, “Dean in a friend of mine. Just let us talk for a minute, okay?” 

The coach grumbled, but allowed Dean to pass. Dean knelt down in front of Cas and took both his hands in his own. “You’re doing great,” he murmured, quietly so only Cas could hear. He could see a couple of Castiel’s teammates eyeing them suspiciously, but he didn’t care. “You’re kicking ass out there, and I know you’re going to do even better in the second half.” 

Castiel bit his lip. “Thank you, Dean. I hope so.” 

Dean couldn’t help himself. Cas looked so adorable with his forehead beaded with sweat and his hair sticking out in all directions and his knees covered in grass stains and his blue, blue eyes looking simultaneously so dejected and so hopeful…

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Castiel’s lips, feeling Cas relax noticeably as he did so. The voices around them died down and a hush fell over Cas’s teammates as they saw what was going on, but none of them said a word. When Dean pulled away, Cas was smiling at him. “Thank you, Dean,” he whispered, “I needed that.” 

Dean grinned and put a hand on Cas’s cheek. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” He felt every eye follow him as he walked back to the stands, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He knew they thought he was a weird geek, the awkward smart kid, but Cas knew otherwise and that was really all that mattered. 

It was no surprise to Dean that they pulled ahead and won the game by four points. At the end of the game, Cas caught his eye from the field and grinned at him, his eyes sparkling. It was the most genuine smile Dean had ever seen, and it made Dean wonder how long Cas had wanted to speak to him but had been too nervous to approach him. 

He wondered how he had ever gotten so lucky that a sweet, talented boy like Cas would decide to overlook all stereotypes and give Dean a chance. 

He felt his heart race as Cas ran over to the stands, grabbing Dean and pulling him down for a messy kiss. “You may have noticed I’m a great ball-handler,” Cas muttered into Dean’s cheek.

Dean laughed. “Maybe we can do a little cardio later.”

Cas winked at him. “Want to make a study of it?” 

Dean pulled him back in for another kiss, deciding to open up for once and trust the beautiful boy in front of him. 

He left the game that night with the taste of spearmint on his tongue and a smile so wide he didn’t think anyone could bring him down. 

  
  
  


 


End file.
